The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

The restaurant is on the second floor of the hotel and is semi-self-service.

A waiter in a white shirt stood at the door, smiling as he handed students plates as they entered.

Several rows of stainless steel stoves were placed on the food counter. With the lids open, steam mixed with the aroma of garlic and seafood wafted out.

Steamed scallops with garlic and vermicelli, steamed oysters, boiled shrimp, crab, salmon sashimi, steak, pasta, salad, and several layers of small cakes and puddings on the dessert table, with sliced ​​watermelon and pineapple in the fruit section.

Seafood was practically free. Song Yang brought back a full plate of oysters, and when he sat down, the edge of the plate almost hit the table.

The fat man followed behind, his plate stacked higher than his, with two steaks on top.

Many girls changed their clothes.

Some were wearing spaghetti strap dresses, some were wearing backless tank tops, and some were wearing hot pants. Normally, their shirts are buttoned all the way up in the classroom, but now their collarbones, shoulders, and thighs are all exposed.

Song Yang chewed on an oyster, his gaze following a girl in a red sundress for a short distance before nudging Lin Feng with his elbow.

With his mouth full of steak and his eyes scanning the surroundings, the fat man mumbled, "I really didn't notice before."

Lin Feng followed his gaze and saw that the bespectacled academic girl was wearing a floral mini-skirt today. She had taken off her glasses and put on contact lenses and was bending over to pick out watermelons in the fruit section. The hem of her mini-skirt swayed gently at mid-thigh.

Zhou Mei and Teacher Sun sat at a table by the window. Zhou Mei had changed into a light blue dress with a V-neck, which accentuated her full breasts beneath the soft fabric.

As she drank water from her cup, her gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on Lin Feng. She paused for a moment, then looked away.

The pause was so short that Shen Qianqian, who was sitting next to Lin Feng, didn't even notice it.

Shen Qianqian was still wearing the same white short-sleeved T-shirt and denim mini skirt today, with the straps of her pearl sandals swaying gently at her ankles.

Her plate contained only a few shrimp and a small bowl of salad. Lin Feng took two scallops from his plate and put them on her plate.

She glanced at him sideways, a slight smile playing on her lips, but said nothing. Song Yang, watching all this from across the table, with an oyster in his mouth, gave Lin Feng a thumbs-up.

After dinner, everyone went about their own business.

Teacher Sun stood up, clapped her hands, and said that the activity area was around the hotel, and that roll call would be at nine o'clock. She reminded everyone not to forget to send their location in the group chat.

Everyone responded and scattered like birds and beasts. Some started playing cards in the elevator, while others changed into flip-flops and headed towards the beach.

Shen Qianqian was dragged by several female classmates to stroll around the commercial street behind the hotel. Before leaving, she looked back at Lin Feng with a look of helplessness that said, "I don't want to go, but I can't refuse."

Raymond Lam waved to her.

Song Yang took two decks of cards out of his bag and slammed them on the table.

Come on, let's fight to the death tonight. Besides Song Yang and Fatty, we also pulled in a guy named Zhao Lei, who wears glasses and is usually quiet, but when it comes to playing cards, he's faster than anyone else at calculating the odds.

Four people sat cross-legged on the bed.

The lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows shattered into golden specks on the sea, and occasionally the distant sound of a ship's horn could be heard.

By 11 o'clock, Song Yang had lost the most, so he threw down his cards and said he was done playing.

At 7:30 a.m. the next morning, everyone gathered at the hotel entrance on time.

The tour guide was already waiting nearby, his skin tanned dark, wearing a sun hat, holding a small flag, and speaking through a megaphone with a distinct Hokkien accent—he was quite humorous. "Ladies and gentlemen, today we're going to Gulangyu Island. Remember to wear sunscreen; the sun in Xiamen doesn't joke around. If you get sunburned and cry for your mother tomorrow, I won't be responsible."

Zhou Mei stood to the side, holding a list in her hand. Today she was wearing a light green sun-protective shirt over a white tank top, khaki shorts, and her legs, encased in flesh-colored stockings, were exposed.

She rolled the list into a tube, tapped it in her palm, and began to explain today's rules.

Grouping by drawing lots.

Three cardboard boxes were placed on the steps at the hotel entrance, each containing strips of paper in red, yellow, and blue.

Everyone lined up to draw a prize.

Lin Feng reached into the red cardboard box, pulled out a slip of paper, unfolded it, and saw it was for the red team. Shen Qianqian finished drawing hers, turned around, and unfolded her slip for him to see—it was also red. The corners of her mouth curved up, and her eyes followed suit. "Lucky," she whispered.

Song Yang, who was standing next to him, drew a card from the blue team and let out a wail. The fat guy patted him on the shoulder and said, "Just accept your fate, bro."

The teacher leading the red team was Zhou Mei. She stood at the red team's assembly point and checked off the names on the red slips of paper one by one.

When it came to Raymond Lam, there was no extra expression, but the fingers holding the pen tightened slightly, leaving a small indentation on the paper.

Everyone boarded the bus.

The tour guide, holding a megaphone in the bus, began to recount the origins of Gulangyu Island, the styles of its international architectural complex, the altitude of Sunlight Rock, and the story of Shuzhuang Garden, speaking with great enthusiasm.

Outside the car window, the arcade buildings of Xiamen's old town receded one after another, their walls covered with green vines.

As we approached the pier, the sea breeze blew in through the cracks in the car windows, carrying a salty, damp smell.

There were quite a few people on the ferry.

Standing by the railing, I watched Gulangyu Island get closer and closer, with its red-roofed Western-style buildings scattered among the green trees.

The sea breeze made Shen Qianqian's hair flutter backward. She reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, turning her face to look at him.

Lin Feng raised his phone and took a picture of her—with the sea and islands behind her, she stood by the railing, her hair, which she had just styled, was blown away by the wind, and her white short-sleeved shirt clung tightly to her body.

She reached out to grab the phone to see if the photo was good, but Lin Feng held it up high and stood on tiptoe. She took the phone from Lin Feng's hand, looked at it, pouted and said the photo made her look too fat, and then pulled Lin Feng to take a selfie.

In the shot, her face is close to Raymond Lam's chin, with the sea and a red lighthouse in the background.

She didn't post this on her WeChat Moments.

The stone-paved roads on Gulangyu Island are winding and meandering.

The tour guide walked at the front, holding a small flag, and told the stories of the old villas through a loudspeaker, saying that this one used to be the British consulate, that one was built by overseas Chinese in the Philippines, and that the bricks were all transported from Southeast Asia.

There were many small shops along the roadside, selling nougat, pineapple cakes, and seashells. Shen Qianqian stopped in front of a shop selling handmade soap, picked up a bar, and smelled it; it was rose-scented.

Lin Feng bought two bars of soap, one rose and one sea salt, which the shopkeeper wrapped in brown paper. Shen Qianqian put the two bars of soap into her small handbag, making the bag bulge.

I had lunch at a small shop on Longtou Road: satay noodles, oyster omelet, sea worm jelly, peanut soup...

The tour guide said this is a local restaurant that has been serving locals for over ten years, not the kind of trendy restaurant that rips off tourists.

Shen Qianqian took a bite of the sea worm jelly, chewed it a couple of times, her expression changed, and she quickly drank a big mouthful of peanut soup to wash it down.

"What does it taste like?" Lin Feng asked her.

"It doesn't have much flavor, just a smooth texture," she said.

The tour guide laughed and said it was made of sandworms, which made several girls scream in fright.

In the afternoon, I visited Shuzhuang Garden and the Piano Museum.

The tour guide said that this garden was built by Lin Erjia, a wealthy Taiwanese businessman, who brought the layout of his villa in Banqiao, Taiwan, to Gulangyu.

The garden features small bridges, flowing water, artificial hills, and pavilions. The wind is strong in the seaside promenade, making the skirts of the visitors flutter.

The piano museum displays dozens of old pianos, the oldest of which is over two hundred years old, with yellowed keys.

Shen Qianqian stood in front of an ivory-white grand piano for a long time, saying that her mother had made her learn piano when she was a child, but she stopped after three years and now regrets it a little.

When I took the ferry back to Xiamen in the evening, the setting sun dyed the sea orange-red.

Shen Qianqian leaned against the railing, the sea breeze blowing through her hair. She took out her phone, snapped a picture of the sunset, and sent it to Ye Qinghan.

Ye Qinghan sent a voice message, which she played to her ear and then smiled.

Everyone was exhausted when they got back to the hotel that night. After taking a shower, Lin Feng lay down on the bed when his phone vibrated.

Shen Qianqian posted a photo taken today on the ferry—she was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and denim mini-skirt, and he was standing next to her, the setting sun filtering through between them. He

He replied, "This photo is great." She responded with a shy cat emoji, then said she was very happy today and wanted to go swimming at the beach tomorrow, asking him if his black swimsuit really looked good.

He replied with "Looks good." She then sent a cat hitting someone emoji, saying it was just a perfunctory reply. He said it really looks good, you look good in anything.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end, then a voice message was sent. Lin Feng opened it; it was her voice, low and sleepy: "See you tomorrow. Goodnight."

I said goodnight and put my phone on the bedside table.